From: "Buch der Lieder" by H. Heine.
Sapphires are those eyes of yours,
Love-lit with sweetest splendor.
Thrice blessed is that lucky man
On whom they shine so tender.
Your heart it is a diamond,
The noblest luster sowing.
Thrice blessed is that lucky man
For whom its love is glowing.
Rubies are those lips of yours,
No rival ranks above you.
Thrice blessed is that lucky man
To whom they say “I love you”.
Oh, if I knew that lucky man,
If fate would only make him
Meet me alone in a dark greenwood,
His luck would soon forsake him.